


Safe Word

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: BDSM, BDSM bordering on domestic violence, M/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In hindsight, you should have asked for a safe word</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe Word

In hindsight, you should have asked for a safe word.

Rob straddles your chest with a lighter in one hand, watching the flame flicker. He glances between you and the flame briefly. The expression on your face has to be one of terror. You’d say something but the minute you said you didn’t need a safe word he gagged you.

This is only the beginning. You’ve been here before. The sight of Rob above you, eyes dark with mischief and lust, always turns you on, makes you painfully hard. The other guys think he’s abusing you. Almost the truth; but it’s not abuse if you say ‘yes’.

Yesterday the safe word was ‘halo’. Not that you could even form words at the time. Wordlessly he bound your wrists with rope and hogtied you face down on the living room floor. The dildo he fucked you with tore you apart and you cried out. He grabbed a handful of your hair and tugged hard, hissing into your ear, “You know what the word is if you want out. If not, shut the fuck up.”

He bit down on your earlobe and slammed the dildo into you harder. And when you bit back a scream all you could taste was blood.

Tonight, though, he’s just holding the lighter and saying nothing. Your hands are cuffed to the headboard and separated with a spreader, your ankles the same. You can’t move. The tension is almost tangible, and you just need him to do something.

You mumble around the gag and he blows out the flame.

Presses the white-hot metal tip of the lighter to your chest and your scream is muffled by the gag.

***

The next day Chester hands you a notebook and you reach out to take it, your sleeve rides up and the burns on the inside of your wrist are revealed. He grabs your hand and pushes back your sleeve, gasping, “Holy fuck, Mikey, what’d you do?”

You pull away, frantically trying to cover your arm. “I fell.”

Rob sits next to Brad on the sofa watching you. You can feel his eyes on you.

“No you didn’t. These are burns.”

“I fell,” you snap, Rob’s gaze boring into you, “Now let’s just get this song done, okay?”

***

He follows you to the bathroom and slams you against the wall face first, kisses the back of your neck.

“They think y-you’re abusing me.”

“Make them stop thinking that then.”

“When I tell them I like it they just laugh.”

“Well then you’ll just have to be more careful,” he says, twisting your arm behind your back, “Won’t you?”

You grit your teeth and nod, “Yeah,” you say, “I’ll have to try harder.”

***

“You know what would be hot?”

You have no idea. Because right now you’re stuck wearing a fucking electrical cock ring which he sets off every time you speak out of line or, really, whenever he feels like it but he’s kissing your inner thigh, thumbing your nipples, and you can’t think of anything hotter.

When you don’t reply he pinches your nipple hard between his finger and thumb, digging in his nails, until you cry out, “W-what?”

“You,” he says moving his mouth to lap at your nipple soothingly, “and Chester.”

He presses the button on the remote in his hand sending a jolt through your dick and you groan. He whispers in your ear, “Make it happen.”

***

Chester isn’t hard to persuade, especially when he has a few drinks down his neck. You’re made to sit in the corner of the room whilst Rob goes down on him, bringing him almost to orgasm before pulling back and kissing him deeply.

You’re telling yourself not to feel jealous, that it’s just how he wants you to feel. But still, watching them touch like long lost lovers makes you want to puke. And you suddenly don’t want to be Rob’s little puppy dog.

You swear he’s a mind reader. He looks up and has you shifting uncomfortably under his gaze until he asks, “Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Then I think you should get out.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” he snaps, “Get out.”

Chester, he’s so close to coming that he just blinks at you blearily and says nothing.

This was supposed to be about you and Chester for Rob’s pleasure. Or so you thought.

You get up. And you leave.

***

The next morning he comes to where you’re pretending to be asleep on the couch and strokes your hair softly, “You’ve been crying,” he says.

Yes. You have.

“You should have asked for a safe word,” he says, “if you’d wanted out.”

You think he’s right. You wish you’d asked for a safe word when you got together. He gave you the option. He said that if you wanted rid of him you’d need a safe word. But you were always a defiant little punk. And hearing you say ‘no’ got him riled enough to hit you.

But it’s just like every time you say you don’t need one. You don’t realise you want out until it’s too late.


End file.
